In My Right Hand
by Broken-Stairway
Summary: Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, was not picked up by Hagrid the night of his parent's death. How will he react to joining the wizarding world with a completely new perspective? AU Hellsing/Harry Potter crossover.
1. Chapter 1

First story in a good long while, and my first multi-chapter story, so I hope you enjoy it. Not too original a concept, but I think it should be fun.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Hellsing and all characters/locations/etc. are the property of their respective licence holders, not me.

* * *

Harry Potter stood on the platform with a gloomy expression on his young face. What kind of a place kept illusions on the gates to its trains? The platform was very lively, lively enough to make him uncomfortable. He wasn't used to crowds, and he was quickly finding that they did nothing for him. The train was set to be leaving in a little over twenty minutes, taking him to who-knows-where, so he was feeling no small amount of anxiety. The giant train was different from any he had ever seen before, it gleamed in the sunlight and the clouds of smoke that billowed from its engine gave the whole platform a slightly hazy look, like an old movie. He sniffed the air, noticing that though he could see the smoke, it didn't appear to be bothering anyone. Harry looked around at the bustling crowd seeing dozens, if not hundreds of young people laughing, crying, exchanging pleasantries. He felt a pang as he watched some of the other children with their parents. He had grown up in an orphanage, and though he had always felt loved, and had had at least a few friends. He had never had parents in the traditional sense. He had never really wanted them either. He had been happy enough where he was, and knew that what he was doing was to be important. However, seeing the other children now was causing him some discomfort, and no little amount of anger. What did these people, these _abominations_ do to deserve such happiness when the faithful were left to suffer as he had?

'I suppose it doesn't really matter, after all, I don't envy any of them their position. If it were up to me I would have nothing to do with any of this,' he thought frowning.

That being said, the whole situation seemed extraordinarily unfair. Why him after all? What made him so special that he had to be the one to do this? He had been told, albeit briefly, about some of his "family" history. How he came from a line of powerful witches and wizards, the thought of which made him sick to his stomach, and how he had somehow defeated the greatest dark wizard of the age as an infant. Aside from that though, this was all new to him, and he put very little stock into any value the wizarding community put on him as a member of their world.

"Lord, how my adversaries have increased. Many are those who rise up against me. Many there are who say of my soul, 'There is no help for him in God.' But you, Lord, are a shield around me, my glory, and the one who lifts up my head. Amen," Harry recited, sighing.

This was going to be a long year. He looked around again. 'Such careless people,' he thought. 'As if they believe themselves to be invincible in their hidden world. How I would love to show them that there is nowhere a heretic can hide from the eyes of our Lord.'

Harry sighed again, picking up his bags and heading for the train. Whether he liked it or not his mission was not to show these people God's wrath. He wasn't even really on a mission. He was just being shipped off to a school for wizards and witches where he was supposed to learn their ways. He had of course, objected, but it was hardly his place to refuse, and the Father had been adamant, if furious in his own right. Harry smiled as he remembered the expression on the Father's face as they had travelled to the station. He had been angry, oh yes. Harry hadn't seen that look on the Father's face since he was much younger, and it had sent chills up and down his spine. The last few days had been a nightmare of new and unpleasant experiences, not the least of which had been his introduction to the wizarding world. He looked back at the barrier, wishing that someone had been able to come with him, at least this far. He knew the Father would have had a hard time keeping his composure in a place with so much that blatantly went against his beliefs, and although Harry wouldn't have been too bothered to watch the man go berserk in a crowd of heretics, it really wouldn't do to cause such a scene. Especially given that the Vatican clearly hoped to gain something from this, and not by way of violence.

As Harry climbed the stairs into the train he felt a bump from behind, and turned to see who had accosted him. He was confronted by two startling similar looking red-heads attempting to carry more than was probably necessary onto the train, one of whom was looking sheepish.

"Sorry about that mate, didn't see you there," the one closest to him said, smiling. "No harm done I hope?"

"I'm fine," Harry grunted in reply. "Just try a little harder to pay attention to where you're going if you please," he said turning back to the train.

The two boys blinked, before one dropped the side of the case he was carrying, causing it to fall on the other's foot.

"Oy! George what are you playing at! Almost broke my bloody foot! What was that for anyway?" he said, hopping up and down on his good foot.

The other boy 'George,' Harry thought, turning back to witness the commotion, was staring at Harry. "Hey aren't you…?" his eyes flicked up to Harry's forehead, "You are! Fred! Look! It's Harry Potter!"

Fred looked up at Harry, his foot apparently forgotten. His eyes widened when he noticed Harry's scar. "So it is! Blimey, I never expected to meet Harry Potter! A pleasure to meet you Harry, I'm Fred Weasley and this is my brother George," Fred said, gesturing towards George. "It is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance my good man!" he said, grabbing Harry's arm and giving it several strong shakes.

"It's a pleasure to meet the two of you as well," Harry replied, grimacing. "Now if you'll excuse me I need to get on the train and find a compartment, I really don't want to have to sit in a crowded one." He pulled his arm out of the older boy's grasp and walked up the remaining stairs into the car. As he walked down the corridor he could hear the two boys talking through the window.

"Seemed a bit uptight wouldn't you say?"

"Nah, he's probably just stressed out with starting school and all. It must be tough being a celebrity after all."

Harry's complexion darkened further at the word "celebrity." "This is going to be such a mess," he muttered to himself as he looked for a compartment. He didn't expect people would be able to recognize him just from descriptions of a scar that he received when he was an infant. Unless of course they had somehow managed to publish a more recent photograph of him, a thought that was more than a little disturbing. He found an empty compartment not far from where he entered the train, and took a seat near the window where, much to his chagrin, he was still able to hear the two twins talking to someone.

"Hey Mum! Guess who we saw on the train?"

"Oh? Who?" Harry heard a woman say distractedly. "Ron your nose. No, stop rubbing it you'll smear it around. Here let me."

"Mum! Get off! This is embarrassing, I'll be fine just let it alone already!" he heard a new voice say. It sounded similar to the twins he had met earlier, but younger.

"Harry Potter!" both the twins shouted together.

"Really? Who was he with?"

"No one that we saw, it looked like he came here by himself. Seemed a little miffed about something when we talked to him."

"I'm sure that couldn't have had anything to do with you ramming into him and ogling his head now could it dearest brother of mine?"

"Ogling? George you really shouldn't draw too much attention to the poor boy, he's going to be getting more than enough of that as it is. Poor thing, sent off on his first day of school all alone. Surely someone must have come to see him off." Harry couldn't help but grind his teeth together listening to her. To think he would be the subject of _pity_ from one of these… these… witches. It was all he could do to keep himself from shouting out the window at the woman. "Now boys I want you to be nice to him. He's doubtless had a rough time of it, and I don't want you lot making things any harder for him you understand me?" the woman said, which was met with a chorus of "Yes Mum," from the assorted children around her. "Now get on the train, it's going to be leaving any moment and if you miss it you're going to have to make your own way to Hogwarts."

Sure enough, the train's whistle blew shortly after, and the train began to move. 'Well maybe if I'm lucky people will leave me alone once the fame wears off. Surely in a school full of magic there will be more interesting things than me to stare at," Harry thought, staring out the window as the train moved by the platform, picking up speed. He could see parents waving to their children, and others moving back towards the exit. There was a red-headed girl chasing the train and waving. She was shouting something but Harry couldn't make it out over the sounds of the train. Finally, the train cleared the station, and almost immediately the area around the tracks was clear of any sign of the London they had just left. 'Where exactly is this train leaving from?' he thought. He had had some brief exposure to magic on the day he went to Diagon Alley to pick up his supplies, but it seemed like the possibilities were nearly limitless. 'Speaking of,' he thought, pulling his wand out and staring at it. He could remember the ramblings of the crazy old man that had sold it to him.

"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. Unusual combination Mr. Potter, oh yes very unusual if you don't mind my saying so," The man had said.

Harry had asked him what was so unusual about it, but the man had merely chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. "That, Mr. Potter, is something that I'm sure you will be discovering for yourself. Maybe even soon. Who knows, but one thing I think I can say for sure is that we are going to see great things from you Mr. Potter. Great. Things."

The man had been disturbing in a way that Harry hadn't really encountered before, as if he had known things he shouldn't. Harry smiled as he fingered his pocket-watch, a gift from one of his friends at the orphanage. 'And I certainly have a lot to hide in this place don't I?' he thought, running his fingers over the roman numerals etched into the silver, the sign of the cross emblazoned on the front.

He turned his attention back to his wand and scowled. 'So this is the instrument through which I'll be expected to enact atrocities upon our Lord's creation.' He thought, his stomach churning. The mere thought of it made him sick. He tried to remember the words the Father had spoken before he had left Harry at the station.

"That is not a sin which is performed in the service of our Lord. But take care Harry, that you don't fall to temptation and forsake His name in favor of this new world. Always remember that you have a home, and that you are in His service so long as you shall live."

Remembering the Father brought some calm to him, and he was so focused that he didn't hear the door to his compartment slide open.

"You know if your wand isn't working, glaring at it isn't going to make it work any better," the newcomer said, jerking Harry out of his reverie. Harry snapped his head up to look at the newcomer.

"Er, sorry, can I sit here? Every other compartment I checked is full, and I don't want to sit with a crowd of people I don't know, or worse, my brothers," he said shuddering.

"Sure," Harry said, waving his hand dismissively. "Just so long as you don't make too much noise."

"Yeah sure, no problem," the boy said, stashing his things away and taking a seat. He reached his hand out to Harry. "Name's Ron, Ron Weasely."

Harry stared at his hand for a moment before sighing and taking it. "Harry Potter, pleasure to meet you Ron," He said, trying to give a good smile. He felt more than saw Ron's eyes dart to his forehead and he gave another sigh, causing Ron to blush in embarrassment.

"Sorry, you must get that a lot. I didn't mean to stare it's just…blimey! You're _the_ Harry Potter! The one who defeated You-Know-Who!" Ron said, nearly beside himself.

Harry blinked and sat back. "Actually I wanted to ask somebody about that. Who exactly is it that I'm supposed to have defeated? I was just an infant after all, and I haven't really been a part of the wizarding world since it happened. All of this is new to me, including this whole You-Know-Who business." Harry said. 'This is going to be a long year if I don't at least try to play nice with somebody,' he thought. 'Might as well try to be civil, even if it is with one of them.'

Ron had a confused look on his face. "You really don't know? Blimey, You-Know-Who was the most evil wizard of all time! He killed hundreds of people before you stopped him! Some people don't even think he was human anymore. Nobody even knows how you did it, but you're a hero for stopping him! How could you not know? I thought for sure you would have been brought up in a wealthy wizarding home, so you should have at least known about who you were."

Harry shrugged. "I was raised in an orphanage, and I didn't know anything about the magical world until a few days ago," he said, watching as Ron's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. "How does everyone here know what I look like anyway? Surely not everyone remembers me simply by reading about my scar." He pulled back his bangs to clarify his point.

"Well I don't know about everyone else, but I saw your picture in the _Daily Prophet_ the day before last. I didn't recognize you right away because I didn't really look too closely at the picture," he said, shrugging. "I don't really read much news anyways, I was just glancing at it."

"Hm," Harry said, chewing on his lip. This was no good. He absolutely could not have any civilian organization, magical or otherwise, taking pictures of him or following him around. If this kept happening his cover would be blown in no time, and then no one would trust him. He didn't want to be doing this, but it was his duty to obey, and obey he would. What made matters worse was that he was much too unfamiliar with this magic to stop these people from spying on him. He didn't even know what methods they were using, much less how to prevent it.

It took him a moment to notice that Ron was frowning at him. "You all right there mate? You look a bit green."

"I'm fine, was just thinking a bit is all," Harry said. "You have a rat on your lap by the way."

"Yeah, this is Scabbers, the Weasley family rat. He's as much of a hand-me-down as most of the other stuff I own. My brothers, the ones you met, Fred and George, taught me a spell to turn him yellow, but I don't know whether or not to try it. I can't really trust those two. Pranksters."

Harry thought of some of the pranks that had been played on him at the orphanage and shuddered.

Ron nodded knowingly. "Exactly. So this spell might work, but it might also turn me into the rat and Scabbers into me."

He was interrupted by a knock on the door before it slid open to reveal a bushy-haired girl in her school robes and a large boy who was looking a bit frantic.

"Excuse me," the girl said, "But Neville here has lost his toad, have either of you seen one around?"

Both boys shook their heads and the girl sighed. "Oh well, thanks anyway. Oh, have either of you started preparing for classes yet? I'm just starting this year and I really have no idea what to expect. No one else in my family is magical you see, so this whole experience is going to be very new for me. I read all about Hogwarts and it really does sound like the best school of witchcraft and wizardry around. I'm Hermione Granger by the way."

Ron and Harry both blinked, the girl had been talking at a fever clip.

"Um, I'm Ron Weasley," Ron said after a moment.

"Harry Potter."

She turned to Harry. "Are you really? That's so interesting! I read all about you in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_," She said, oblivious to Harry's darkening features. "Well we should be getting there soon, so I need to help Neville find his toad. You two should change you know," she said before taking her leave.

Ron stared after her for a moment before shaking his head. "That girl is crazy."

Hermione and Neville hadn't been gone more than a few minutes when the door to the compartment opened again, revealing three boys, a small blonde-haired one flanked by two large, mean looking boys that looked as though they were more gorilla than man.

"The whole train is abuzz with the rumor that Harry Potter is in this compartment," said the boy in the middle. He looked at Harry. "I take it that's you then?"

Harry looked back at the boy. "That's right, and who might you be?"

"The name's Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy family, one of the oldest, wealthiest, and most prodigious pure-blood wizarding families," the boy said, giving an exaggerated bow.

Ron hissed. "I've heard of your family! Nothing but a bunch of dark wizards up to no good! I heard that when You-Know-Who fell they used their money to buy their way out of trouble! You don't want to go getting yourself involved with their sort Harry, trust me!"

Malfoy sniffed. "Well well, judging by your hair you must be a Weasley. Didn't they make enough of you people already? Must be hard on your parents, trying to feed so many vermin on so little income," he said, turning back to Harry. "You'll learn soon enough that some families are better than others. I can help you with that if you like."

Harry was glowering at the boy, and the intensity of his glare almost made Malfoy flinch. "I know your kind," Harry said. "You think you're blood, your family, makes you pure, but you don't understand the first thing about purity! Purity is not something that you are born with. No, in fact we are all born impure. Purity must be earned, toiled for through a life of service, through sweat and blood. You think because you have money, or because your family is old you are pure. My family is older than yours by a hundred generations, and we have never stopped struggling for the right to call ourselves pure."

Malfoy was red in the face, and shaking with rage. "What do you think you know about me and my family Potter?" he bellowed, whipping out his wand. "Clearly you have spent too long away from the magical world! I think you need to learn proper respect!"

Before Malfoy could utter the first syllable or the two oafs that guarded him could so much as blink, Harry buried his knee into Malfoy's stomach. He let out a pained wheeze before crumpling to the ground. The two larger boys didn't seem to know quite how to react. They stood there a moment before grabbing Malfoy and dragging him away, still coughing and wheezing.

Ron stared wide-eyed at the spot Malfoy had been. "Bloody hell Harry! That was great!"

Harry was still breathing heavily when the sound of running footsteps approached, and Hermione stuck her head in the door.

"What's going on in here?" She asked, "Have you been fighting already? Do you really want to get kicked out of school before we even get there?"

"Malfoy started it!" Ron said, "He was going on about how great his family is and how important it is to be pure-blooded. He insulted my family and then pulled his wand on Harry! Harry was just defending himself is all!"

Hermione frowned as she looked at Harry, who was muttering under his breath with an angry look on his face. "Well I don't really understand all this pure-blood nonsense, and he really shouldn't have threatened you Harry, but you really shouldn't be attacking your fellow students."

Harry waved her off. "That boy needed to learn a lesson and I was more than happy to teach it to him. If he decides to come back later, I will be more than happy to teach it again," he said, sitting back down, "Now if you'll excuse us we need to change, we're almost there after all."

Hermione stared at him for a moment before sighing and turning away. "Just try not to get into anymore fights," she said, closing the door to the compartment.

* * *

They arrived not long after Ron and Harry had changed into their robes, which Harry was finding himself none too keen on. He knew some of the people he worked with wore robes, but his division was much more about function than form. 'And besides that,' he thought, trying to adjust his sleeves, 'They make me look ridiculous.'

As they exited the train Harry could first hear and then see a giant of a man bellowing. "Firs' years over here! Everyone in a boat! Watch yer step gettin' in, and no more than six to a boat!"

Harry followed Ron towards the boats, and did a double take as he passed the carriages the other students were getting into. The hairs on the back of his neck bristled when he saw the creatures pulling them. They looked if anything like vampire horses, something guaranteed to set him on edge. He grit his teeth as he walked past them, noticing that no other students seemed to be acknowledging the creatures existence.

He tapped Ron on the shoulder. "What's pulling those carriages?" He asked, gesturing towards the creatures.

Ron looked at the carriages and then back at Harry, a confused look on his face. "Nothing mate, they pull themselves."

Harry sighed, looking back towards the boats. 'Of course they do,' he thought bitterly, wondering what other surprises this place would have in store for him.

* * *

Here's the first chapter. I only have a sort of general idea of where the story is going to be going from here, but most of it will probably come together on its own given what I want to do with it. I'll be messing with some of the timeline for both Harry Potter and Hellsing, if for no other reason than it will make things more fun for me to write. Also, if anyone who reads this wants to proofread for me that would be helpful. Any reviews are appreciated.


	2. Facing Hogwarts

Second Chapter is up. Took me awhile, since I've been pretty busy lately. Thanks to everyone that reviewed, I really appreciate the effort and it makes the writing process a bit easier when I get some feedback.

Disclaimer: All rights to anything related to existing trademarks belong to those holding their licences, meaning anything Harry Potter or Hellsing related is not mine.

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"Look! Harry, look!" Harry started as Ron shook his shoulder. The boat they were riding in had just cleared a tunnel, and suddenly he could see a castle, massive and ancient, sitting atop a hill overlooking the lake they were sailing across. He had to catch himself to keep from gaping, the sight truly was magnificent. The castle stretched into the night sky, and he could barely make out the tops of the towers looming in the darkness. Most of the windows were lit, and he could see them shining on the surface of the water, creating a dazzling display of dancing lights as the boats passed. He momentarily forgot his bitterness and smiled, gazing at the scene before him. His home was beautiful, and he had always loved Ferdinand Lukes' grounds, but there was something different about this place, something he couldn't place. The atmosphere seemed to be alive, each gust of wind carrying some hidden message. He shook his head. It was very important that he remember what this place was, a school for the training and education of wizards and witches; heathens, heretics. An entire society of people who reveled in sin, and made their daily lives an affront to the Lord. He took a deep breath, focusing on the water rather than the castle.

"You alright Harry?" Harry looked up to see a concerned looking Ron staring at him. "You look a little sick, are you worried about the sorting?"

Harry frowned. "Sorting? What's that? I didn't hear anything about something like that." He really didn't like being kept in the dark, and it irked him he was going into such an unfamiliar, and potentially dangerous, situation nearly blind. He mentally berated himself for not picking up some of the history books covering Hogwarts while he had been in Diagon Ally. At the time he had been angry, and in a hurry to get out of there as soon as possible, but his discomfort was no excuse for such negligence.

"What's this sorting supposed to be about?"

Ron looked at him and shrugged. "Well they sort you into one of the four houses, but aside from that I don't know how it's done, none of my brothers ever told me about it." Harry noticed that despite his attempt at being casual Ron appeared as nervous as he seemed to think Harry was. "Fred and George mentioned something about it but I don't think I can really believe them on this one, Fred said we needed to fight a troll," he said, giving a nervous chuckle.

"What's this about houses?" Harry asked, trying to imagine what sort of system would require students to complete a task to get what sounded like a room assignment.

"Well," Ron said, clearly glad to have something besides the sorting process itself to talk about. "Hogwarts has four houses, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. All my family was in Gryffindor, so if I don't get sent there I don't know what I'll do. I hear all of them are fine, aside from Slytherin," he said, a look of disgust crossing his face. "My brothers all told me the really nasty characters go there. All the Malfoys have been in Slytherin, so it's a good bet that the one we met on the train will go there," he finished, giving Harry a peculiar look. "By the way, I wanted to ask you—"

Before Ron could finish his question, they heard a student in a nearby boat let out a cry of fright as the boats passed into darkness. Harry turned around and could see torchlight along the walls of what looked like a cave. 'We must be under the castle now,' he thought, remembering the cliff the castle stood upon. They travelled in silence for a few minutes before they reached an underground dock, and the boats guided themselves into landing points. Some of the children jumped off the boats immediately, and Harry had to hold onto the side of his own boat when one of its overeager passengers jumped onto the dock, rocking the boat. Harry could see the giant he had seen earlier moving among the students, trying to create some semblance of order amongst the excited youths.

"Alright, alright!" The man boomed, causing some of the students to jump in surprise. His voice echoed off of the cave walls, and Harry could hear it reverberating all the way down the passage they had just come through. "Everyone line up by yer boat, and then follow me." He walked over towards a door, and when he opened it Harry could feel a rush of fresh air hit him. Harry, along with the rest of the students, followed the man up a narrow passage, and they emerged on the grounds at the base of the castle.

"Alright, everyone get in line in front of the door!" the man shouted, and the line reformed in front of the castle's massive wooden doors.

Harry caught himself clutching the watch in his pocket, and found that despite what he had thought during the boat ride he _was_ nervous, though the sorting wasn't the reason. His faith would not falter, of that he was certain, but who knew what awaited him in that castle? A castle full of magic was something he had never thought he would encounter, and nothing in his training, limited though it may have been, had prepared him for this. Though he hadn't been sent here as one, he thought of himself as an emissary of the Vatican, and it wouldn't do for someone like that to be caught shaking with nerves, even in front of a magical castle. 'Focus Harry, focus,' he thought, taking several deep breathes in an attempt to calm himself. 'Nothing in there to be worried about, you've seen monsters before, and this is supposed to be a school.' The thought calmed him somewhat, but he kept his hand on the watch.

The massive doors opened, and the flood of light caused him to squint. He could make out the form of a woman wearing a robe and a pointed hat. He couldn't help but give a little snort at that. 'I never imagined witches would actually wear pointed hats,' he thought, remembering some of the pictures he had seen when he was younger. His childhood stories may have been a bit different from most children's, a little more violent than most parents probably would have thought appropriate for a child, but that didn't mean he had never seen a picture of a witch before. His eyes adjusted and he was able to make out the woman's features. She was old, but not so old that she looked infirm. Her face was stern and he could see her frowning in his direction. 'Maybe she heard me,' he thought, looking away. When he looked back she was looking at the giant, the same look on her face.

"These are the new firs' years, Professor McGonagall," he said, gesturing over the line.

"Thank you Hagrid," she said, giving him a curt nod, "I will take them from here." Professor McGonagall opened the doors wide before turning around and gesturing for the children to follow her.

"Right this way," she said, walking down the hallway and past a large stairway. "Stay in line, all of you, we'll be joining the opening feast soon, but first you all need to be sorted."

She led them down the hall to a small room, where she told them they would await the sorting ceremony. As soon as she was gone the small room was abuzz with the chatter of the soon-to-be-sorted students.

"What do you think the sorting will be like?"

"I hope I get in either Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, I heard those are the best!"

"Are they going to make us do magic? I haven't had a chance to practice yet!"

"I heard they send you home if you fail the sorting test!"

Harry was doing his best to ignore the chatter of the kids around him, but his nerves were getting the better of him. He could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping up, and began rubbing his temples, trying to keep it at bay. He saw Ron hopping from one foot to the other, trying to keep his own nerves under control. 'At least I'm not the only one here that's nervous,' he thought as he looked around the room. Even if he hadn't been able to hear them talking, the body language of the children around him was clear enough. Suddenly he heard a scream come from somewhere behind him and he spun around to find the source. As he turned he heard several other students scream as well, and when he saw the cause his breath caught in his throat. There were more than a dozen ghosts floating through the air, chatting idly with each other, not even seeming to notice the gathered children that they were floating over. As they passed, a couple of them looked down at the students.

"Well now what's all this? What are you lot doing in here? The feast has started already hasn't it?"

Another ghost gave a chuckle and addressed the first, "Friar, these are the new students! Waiting to be sorted I suppose," he said, laughing again. Some of the students nodded dumbly, while others merely continued to stare or cowered in fear.

"Ah new students!" the Friar said, giving hearty laugh. "Well I hope to see some of you in Hufflepuff!"

Harry could barely hear the words being spoken. His heart was pounding in his ears, and he was struggling to keep himself under control. He hadn't been in the school for more than ten minutes before he had encountered monsters! Not living certainly, but not undead in the same way that a ghoul or a vampire would be. He hadn't learned much of anything about ghosts, and he certainly didn't know how to deal with them. He doubted a blessed blade or bullet would work, the things had no bodies to be destroyed. Perhaps a particular prayer would work? He could hardly believe he would encounter something like this so soon after arriving. He had expected the place to be a madhouse, full of witches and wizards committing any number of atrocities upon God's work, but he had thought that, given it being a school, it would at least be safe from these _things_. His mind was racing, trying to find a way to deal with ghosts that seemed reasonable when the door opened and Professor McGonagall appeared.

"Alright everyone, the sorting ceremony is about to begin. Form a line and then follow me," she said, gesturing towards the hallway.

The ghosts began filtering out of the room, and Harry watched them closely as they phased through the walls. He took a moment to collect himself before getting in line with the other students. 'I'll have to figure out how to deal with ghosts later,' he thought, as they walked down the hall. He could hear the murmur of distant voices growing louder as they approached a large set of doors. When Professor McGonagall opened them, Harry could see a great hall, filled with people sitting and long, elegantly decorated tables, each with a different color theme. As they passed through the hall, he looked up, taking note of the floating candles and the ceiling. At first glance he had thought the room had no ceiling, but upon closer inspection he realized that there must be some magic at work there as well. He noticed absently that he was becoming less and less surprised by these displays of magic, as if he was becoming numb to the experience.

As they were marched up onto a stage overlooking the tables, he noticed a large number of students looking his direction. Many of them were pointing, and most of them seemed to be holding hushed conversations with their friends. Harry could feel his face heating up, and tried to suppress the anger that was beginning to well up inside him. He had hoped that it had been an isolated incident when he was recognized by those two before he got on the train, and even after he learned his photo had been published, he had held out a small hope that most people might not have read it, but that didn't appear to be the case. 'If everyone keeps staring at me like that I'm going to have to make a scene,' he thought as he tried to focus on something else.

He was just starting to consider what the consequences would be if he just walked out of the castle and hiked back to Rome, when he saw Professor McGonagall join them on the stage, placing a stool in the center of the stage, and upon it, a ratty looking hat. He looked at it, a frown on his face.

"What is that thing?" he asked poking Ron in the shoulder.

The red-headed boy merely shrugged and shook his head. "Beats me, maybe it has something to do with the sorting? I'm just glad I don't have to fight a troll," he said giving a nervous chuckle and looking back at the hat. "It is a bit strange though isn't it? I mean, what are they gonna do with an old thing like that?"

The words had hardly left his mouth when a seam in the hat ripped open and the hat burst into song. Harry stared with disbelief at the hat, trying his level best to keep from screaming in frustration. 'What is wrong with these people!' he thought as the hat finished its song. 'What possible purpose could a talking hat serve? Why do they feel the need to rub this magic in my face at every available opportunity?' His hands had made their way back to his temples and he realized that he was grinding his teeth and that some of the surrounding students were looking at him with strange expressions on their faces.

"You all right there Harry?" Ron asked. "I mean, yeah the song wasn't great but it wasn't terrible. Pretty good for a hat at least."

Harry waved his hand. "It's nothing, just nerves."

He looked back up and saw Professor McGonagall walk back towards the assembled new students.

"When your name is called please step forward and take a seat on the stool. Place the hat upon your head and then wait to be sorted. Once you have been sorted please make your way to your respective table and take a seat," she said, gesturing towards the tables below.

Harry noticed many of the students around him visibly relax at her explanation of the sorting process. He heard Ron let out a deep breath, and smiled a little. The red-headed boy had looked so nervous a second ago, but was apparently reassured by it being _just_ a talking hat. Harry frowned as he watched the first student, a Hannah Abbott, step forward and place the hat upon her head. He was feeling none of the relief that Ron had apparently felt, and the whole experience was causing a rather unpleasant lump to form in the pit of his stomach.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat bellowed after a brief moment, causing several of the students to jump or let out "eeps" of surprise.

The line gradually shortened as students were called, each one placing the hat on their head and receiving an assignment. Harry tapped his foot impatiently as he watched the display. 'I don't know how they expect a hat to sort anyone into anything, even if it can talk,' he thought trying to stop his foot from tapping. The Father always said that self control was important, especially for them.

"Granger, Hermione," Professor McGonagall called.

Harry watched as the girl practically ran to the stool and almost fell over herself as she anxiously pulled the hat onto her head, her knees shaking.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted, and Hermione pulled it off, beaming amid the applause from the Gryffindor table.

Harry watched as the boy from the train, the one that had been looking for his toad, was also sorted into Gryffindor. Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek, again wishing that he knew a little more about this place and what he was getting into.

"Potter, Harry," Professor McGonagall called, and the conversation in the Great Hall immediately quieted, before picking back up again in a more curious tone.

"She just said Potter didn't she? _The_ Potter?

"I didn't know Harry Potter was going to be coming to Hogwarts this year! How exciting!"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the voices away, and felt himself lurch forward on legs that felt as though they had become rooted to the floor. He turned his head and looked with great purpose at the exit, wanting nothing more than to leave. For some reason he felt as though he were about to cross a line that once crossed would not permit him to go back. He looked back at the hat and noticed that he was right in front of it. He could barely hear the voices anymore. He looked at the heavy doors at the entrance to the hall one more time before sighing and putting on the hat.

"Well well, so Harry Potter has finally found his way to Hogwarts has he?" said a voice that seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere.

Harry sat bolt upright and had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting. He tasted copper before he calmed down. It took all of his willpower not to immediately throw the hat off his head.

'Demon!' he thought, fury coursing through his thoughts and body. 'Be gone from my mind!' His body was shaking, and he was struggling to maintain his composure. After all, all the other children had done it without showing any fear, and he would be damned if he would let himself panic in the face of something a bunch of children had faced with no fear.

"Hahaha!" the voice laughed, and Harry could feel the hat shaking on his head. "What an attitude you have! Yes the headmaster did say that your upbringing had been…unusual. Let's have a look shall we?"

Harry was silent as the hat talked, unsure of how he should react to the situation. He had never heard of something that could get inside of your mind in this way before. He knew vampires could do it, but that required them to take your blood.

'What do you want? Get out of my head and leave me be!' he thought at the hat, hoping that it would just pick a house and leave him be.

"But I still need to figure out where you should go. Now, let's see…oh my, this is interesting. A member of the Church are you? We rarely have people of faith pass through these doors, as you seem to be aware. Oh ho! Not just any member of the Church, but one of _them_." The hat said, and Harry could detect both surprise and amusement in the hat's voice.

'Stop!' he thought, trying to avoid thinking about who he was associated with. 'That isn't for you to know, leave it be!'

Harry could feel the hat chuckle again, the motion on his head causing the hat to shift. "If you say so, but I'm surprised the headmaster still wishes you to have a traditional education, under the circumstances. But I'm sure he knows what he's doing. Well, it looks like sorting you is going to present a unique challenge. You certainly are capable, and you have many admirable traits that would make you fit well in any of the houses. Intelligence is here, you are certainly clever enough for Ravenclaw, and your loyalty is as fierce as I have ever seen in one so young- you would make a fine Hufflepuff. Ah, now this is interesting," the hat said, and Harry could hear the grin in its voice. "You are willing to use any means necessary to achieve your goals, no matter how underhanded most people would consider those methods to be. All in service of the Lord, correct?" This time the hat actually laughed out loud, and Harry could feel his face heating up as he clenched his fingers around the seat of the stool.

'Are you mocking my God, demon?' he thought, looking around the room. The hat had been on his head much longer than anyone else's, and people were starting to look at him anxiously.

The hat let out another laugh. "Not at all! I am merely trying my best to sort you! It looks like you could easily go into any of the houses, though you don't seem to really want to be here at all. No matter, that's not my business after all; it's only my duty to sort you. Given the nature of your upbringing, it seems the trait you value most is self-sacrifice. You would gladly die to protect the Church, and more than that I see in your mind people you would die for as well, so it had better be GRYFFINDOR!" the hat said, shouting the last word.

Harry ripped the hat off his head and walked quickly over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the applause and the antics of Ron's brothers, taking a seat next to Hermione. He took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He stuck his hand in his pocket and grabbed hold of his watch, the cold metal reassuring in his hand. Looking up, he noticed that Hermione was frowning at him, a curious expression on her face.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to sound calm.

She looked at him a moment longer before shaking her head. "Nothing, I was just wondering if you were okay. The hat took much longer to sort you than it did me, I thought maybe something was wrong, especially since you seemed to be upset," she said pointing at his arms. He looked down at them and noticed that he was still shaking a bit. "All the hat said to me was that I was smart enough for Ravenclaw, but that I should be in Gryffindor, what did it say to you?"

Harry glared at her for a moment and she blushed, stammering; "S-sorry, I guess I shouldn't ask that, it's pretty personal, talking about your character traits with someone you just met is probably pretty uncomfortable." She said, and looked down at her hands, her face still red.

"It was nothing," Harry said, watching as Ron was sorted into Gryffindor. "I'm just not used to having something poking around in my head. It was a little uncomfortable."

"Oh! Of course! I guess it just didn't occur to me, I mean, everyone else was so calm about it so I didn't really worry." She said, giving an embarrassed smile.

Harry looked up as Ron collapsed into the seat next to him, his face red. "You alright?" Harry asked, trying to distract himself from thinking about what it meant that he was in a castle where things were capable of reading his mind.

"Just fine," Ron said, giving him a grin. "I was just worried I wasn't going to be sorted into Gryffindor. I mean, I've never felt particularly brave or anything, and I wouldn't have been able to face my family if I had been the first Weasley to be sorted somewhere else."

At that moment, Professor McGonagall called the last student, and the sorting was complete. Amid the applause, Harry looked up at the staff table, and watched as an incredibly ancient looking man stood up and raised his hands, hushing the crowd.

"Welcome students, new and old!" he said in a loud, cheerful voice. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Before we begin the feast allow me to say a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Now dig in!" he said, taking his seat.

Harry stared at the man for moment before shaking his head. "That man is insane."

Ron shrugged. "Maybe, but Professor Dumbledore is the best wizard alive. Some say the best wizard ever, so he can't be that crazy. Oh! Food!" Harry turned at Ron's exclamation and saw that the tables had filled with all manner of food. He watched for awhile as the students around him attacked the food with zeal, until he felt someone poke him in the shoulder. He turned and saw Hermione looking at him again.

"Aren't you going to eat anything Harry? It's quite good really. I'm amazed that they have such a wide variety of food, and it all looks freshly cooked too. I wonder how they do it." She passed a platter of potatoes to him. "Here, have some of these, they're delicious."

Harry turned away, not taking any of the potatoes. "I'm not really very fond of English food, thanks." He said. Before Hermione could set the plate down, his stomach gave a loud growl, causing a faint blush to form on his cheeks.

"Well you may not like the cuisine, but you need to eat something. Here." She said, scooping a helping of potatoes onto his plate.

Harry ate them slowly, still slightly embarrassed. After a moment, he reached for some of the other dishes on the table and started eating more vigorously. He hadn't realized it before he had started eating, but he was famished.

"Did you not grow up in the United Kingdom then? I know English people that don't like English food, but not anyone that would turn down a meal because of it." Hermione said after she had cleared her plate.

"I'm not really used to it," Harry said between bites. "I'd never really had it before about a week ago. I was raised in Rome, and I've never been to the United Kingdom before so I've never really had any of its food. So far I'm not really impressed. It all feels so heavy and bland."

"You grew up in Rome? That's interesting, did you have family there? From what I read about you, your parents were both English and lived in England, so I thought you would have been raised there."

"I didn't know my parents at all, and I grew up in an orphanage, so I don't know about any other relatives," Harry said, picking at the food that was left on his plate. Now that he wasn't starving it was looking a lot less appetizing. "But it doesn't bother me at all really. I never really felt neglected or anything like that."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," Hermione said, looking slightly ashamed.

Harry shrugged, turning his attention towards the staff table. He saw Professor McGonagall engaged in a conversation with the old man Harry now recognized as Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, who apparently found the conversation much more amusing that did Professor McGonagall. Sitting to McGonagall's left was a man wearing a very conspicuous turban, talking to man with a large, beak-like nose and long, greasy looking hair. As Harry was watching, the man turned his head and glared down his nose at him. Harry felt a stabbing pain in his head and gasped, gripping the table as his vision swam before his eyes.

"Whoa there Harry! You all right? What happened?" Ron said, giving Harry a pound on the back.

"I'm…fine" Harry gasped, waving Ron off.

He took a moment to collect himself before looking back up at the table. The man was looking away again, and appeared not to have noticed Harry's pain.

"That man with the greasy black hair and ridiculous nose, do you know who he is?" He asked Ron, pointing at the man.

Ron looked up at the staff table and nodded. "That's probably Professor Snape. He teaches potions I think. Fred and George complain about him all the time. He's the head of Slytherin house and apparently he's really biased. He hates Gryffindor and will go out of his way to get Gryffindors in trouble.

At that moment, the dishes cleared and Professor Dumbledore stood up and cleared his throat.

"Well, now that we're all fed, we need to take care of a few school related matters. First of all, to all of you; welcome! It's always a pleasure to welcome back our returning students and to welcome our new first year students to the beginning of their magical education. I would like you all to remember that the Forbidden Forest is, in fact, still forbidden, and Mr. Filch will be more than happy to assign detention to anyone caught out of bounds. Now, please follow me in the school song, any tempo, any tune you please. When we finish please find your prefects and make your way to your rooms," He said, and Harry saw him flourish his wand, golden words appearing in the air before him.

Harry listened with disdain as the hall around him erupted into song—loud, unorganized song. As the last notes faded he stood up and followed the rest of the students out of the hall.

"Right this way everybody, come on now follow me to the common room," Harry watched as the speaker, another red-headed boy that looked like Ron, only older, marched them up the stairs and through several long corridors full of moving paintings and talking armor. He was starting to feel physically ill.

'Everything about this place is so wrong,' He thought, as he watched a ghost swoop over the group in front of him, cackling.

Finally they reached a portrait of a fat woman, who asked for a password.

"Caput Draconis," The red-head answered, and the portrait swung open to reveal a doorway. They walked through a rather cozy looking common room, and then up to the rooms. Harry noticed that his things had already been delivered, which was a little irritating. Growing up in an orphanage, he had developed a distaste for other people touching his things, especially after what some of them had a tendency to do with his things when they got their hands on them.

Ron came in behind him, along with a couple other boys Harry didn't know. As they all got ready to go to sleep, Harry pulled a small picture frame out of his bag and set it on his night stand, smiling. It was an old picture, taken when he was maybe eight years old. It showed him with the Father, and three other children. Two of them were jumping on him, while the other was looking disinterested and the Father was smiling. Harry turned and caught Ron looking over his shoulder. When he noticed Harry he blushed and looked away, embarrassed.

"Sorry," he said, rubbing his neck. "Who are they? People from the orphanage you grew up in?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Some of my friends, although sometimes they act more like their out for my blood. The man is Father Anderson; he's more or less the man that raised me." Harry said, sitting on his bed.

"Father? I thought you said you were in an orphanage?" Ron said, looking confused.

"Father is just what we call him," Harry said, not feeling the need to go into explaining the reason why. "He runs the orphanage so he's our father figure in more than just name."

"Oh, okay, well g'night Harry."

"Goodnight," Harry said as he crawled into bed. He heard the curtains close around the other boy's beds and lay staring at the wall. Once he thought that the others were asleep, he slowly recited the Lord's Prayer. Then he recited it again. And again. He sighed. Sleep was not going to come easy. He thought back to his conversation with the hat and shuddered.

'This place is going to take a lot of getting used to.'

* * *

AN: I struggled a little bit with this chapter, in that at times it felt like I was plagiarizing. I really wanted to keep a lot of the original situation in the story though, because I thought it would be fun to write Harry's reactions to those situations. It's also sort of hard to write children, as at times I feel like I'm making them sound too mature, but I don't know if I actually am.

What I'm going for with Harry in this is that he is a loyal member of the church, but at the same time he's still a child, and he'll be lonely in Hogwarts for so long. So he'll develop friendships, though things will probably be a bit tough, particularly if things clash later on.

Thanks again for the support.


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